Shining Through the Darkness
by Gunso
Summary: DH Spoilers. Voldemort consolidates his power as Harry and the DA escape. Hogwarts isn't safe, and neither, it seems, is anywhere else. When one false step could end it all, will Harry be able to marshal the forces of light, or will the dark consume all?
1. Flight

This story is takes place sometime around Autumn of Harry's seventh year. The timeline diverges from canon before this at the beginning of Half-Blood Prince, where Dumbledore (for whatever reason) hadn't learned as much about the Horcruxes as in canon. He didn't die until Harry's seventh year, followed shortly after by Voldemort staging a coup against the Ministry.

This is when Harry, the DA, and possibly a few others escape as the Death Eaters/Ministry Officials swoop down on Hogwarts. After near capture the group leaves Hogwarts grounds and Apparates (or side-along Apparates) to the only place Harry can think of that is remotely secure. That's where this story picks up. (This part may be described more in the story by the characters if it comes up)

Please note that this story shares its title with my other deleted Harry Potter fic. If anyone out there read it, think of this as a retconed version of that story.

Traditional pairings to start – and will _likely_ continue –, but who knows what might happen later (I've always been partial to Harry/Hermione, but only if it makes sense).

* * *

_Chapter One_

_Flight_

Harry flung the black door open after a brief tap with his wand. "Ron," he called over his shoulder, "you check ground and the kitchen, I'll check upstairs!" He heard his friend's acknowledgement over the stifled cries of their companions who followed them into the dank entry hall.

A flash of red hair passed further into the darkness as Harry bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time. His blood pounded in his veins and his chest heaved from what they had already been through that night. A sort of mold in the stale air filled his nose with every breath. The prickle on his forehead could have just been sweat sticking his hair to him, but he knew that wasn't so.

Just cresting the second floor landing, a loud voice screeched from down below. "_Filth! Scum! You dare defile this noble house with your despicable presence! Blood traitors and Mudbloods all! Begone!_" There was more, but Harry ignored it as he burst into room after room, lighting his wand as he searched for intruders. Confident there was no one there, he bolted up to the next floor. Nearly kicking the bedroom door in, he gasped in surprise.

"Kreacher!" He felt irritated at himself that he'd forgotten all about the elf.

For his part, Kreacher seemed to hide something in his grubby loincloth before turning a resentful eye on the interruption. "It is Harry Potter, looking ready to hex Kreacher. Kreacher wonders if the blood-traitor and the Mudblood are here with him?"

"Stay in this room, Kreacher," Harry barked. "Don't come out till I call for you!" Without waiting for an answer, he closed the door and locked it.

The few minutes it took to complete the search seemed unforgivably long to Harry, even though he knew he couldn't move any faster without a broom. The screams of Mrs. Black didn't help the perception, either. Sliding down the banister, he saw someone had lit the gas lamps on the first floor. There were still people there, but it seemed that Ginny and Justin Finch-Fletchley were guiding everyone down into the kitchen.

The stragglers were helping the few who had been injured in their dash for freedom. He saw Terry Boot with an arm around each of his friends, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner, as they helped him along. He was heavily favoring his left leg as they went. Harry didn't remember him being hit. Then again, he really didn't remember much about the escape itself. The last hour or so was a blur in his mind.

"Seamus," he called out as he landed on the worn carpet, "give me a hand! Grab that curtain!"

Pocketing their wands, the pair struggled for what, again, seemed like forever to cover the wailing painting of Sirius' mother. Finally they stood shoulder to shoulder, leaning heavily on the curtains and what lay beyond. Panting, the two looked at each other. "You live here?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Grab Neville and Ginny and watch the door. If it opens and no one's there, don't fire." Seamus seemed a bit confused by the last part, but nodded and ran back toward the kitchen. Harry trotted through an open door in the hallway and into a shadowy dining room near the front door, lit only by the slivers of pale light that made it past the curtains.

He nodded toward the barely moonlit face of Ron, whose gaze quickly turned back to the small opening in the moth eaten hangings around the pane. Breathing deeply to try and slow his racing heart, Harry moved up to the next window.

Harry nervously watched, prodding aside the heavy, dark curtains with his wand just enough to peer through the grimy windows to the street beyond. Sweat still beaded on his face and made his shirt stick uncomfortably to him under his school robes. His breathing had only now begun to slow to less than a pant. _Could it be? Did we really make it?_

But he didn't dare take his eyes from the moonlit street in front of Grimmauld Place. If the Death Eaters followed them here, it would be all over.

"D'you see anything?" Ron's voice was a bit higher than normal, but Harry had to admit that his best friend sounded far better than he himself felt.

"No," Harry replied in a near whisper, "I don't see anyone. You?"

"No." He sounded no more relieved than Harry was at the apparent lack of pursuit.

"How much more do you think Hermione's got left?"

Ron twitched a bit at this. "Too long," he replied nervously. "Why'd you leave Luna with her?"

Harry didn't take his eyes off the street. "If the Death Eaters show up while they're still out there, do you think Hermione would get out of there like I told her to?"

"Why not Ginny then? She'd fit under the cloak, no problem."

He knew what Ron was getting at. Why not give the girl Harry loved the chance to escape, too? "She wouldn't run either. At least this way someone will make it out alive if they come after us."

Ron glanced up at him. "You think Luna will get them out?"

"I told her to take Hermione and Apperate if something went wrong."

"Yeah, mate, but will she actually do it?"

Harry met Ron's eyes but said nothing. A series of clicks reached their ears, and the pair were wrenched from their discussion. Both bolted to the entryway just in time to see the front door close. There was no one standing close to it. Harry waved to the nearby Seamus, Neville, and Ginny to lower their wands.

In an instant two girls appeared from beneath the Invisibility Cloak, both looking somewhat disheveled. Ron reached forward and embraced Hermione (who hugged him back rather fiercely). Luna bundled up the cloak and handed it to Harry with what was, to him, an unfathomable calm.

"Well?" He was looking expectantly at Hermione, who pulled back from Ron but did not let go of his hand.

"I did what I could, Harry," she answered, looking extremely worried, "I put up every charm I could think of. I think even members of the Order would have trouble getting in, but…"

Harry didn't want to hear any 'buts.' "What is it?" Ron gave Harry a look, but he ignored it.

"Well, I mean, what if I made a mistake? What if the charms aren't strong enough?" She became more and more frantic with each word. "What if I messed up and the Death Eaters come in and…"

"Hermione, you sound like you did after your O.W.L.S," Ron assured her, "and you beat the stuffing out of the rest of us!"

Ginny moved behind Hermione, gently squeezing her shoulders. Luna reached over and took her free hand, "He's right, you know. You're very clever at this sort of thing. I'm sure even a Googleparf couldn't find us, and they're the best searchers out there."

Taking a brief second glance at Luna at the mention of a new creature that she had apparently just created, Harry looked back at Hermione with a small smile. "Go take it easy for a while." She seemed about to object, but he cut across her. "You just saved the life of everyone in this house. You deserve it."

She sniffed a little, worried eyes glistening, before she nodded and let Ron lead her away. Harry spoke over his shoulder to them, just loud enough for them to hear. "Go upstairs, it'll be quieter. Kreacher's in a bedroom on the third floor, just so you know."

Turning back, he looked at Ginny. "Go down and tell everyone that we're safe for now. And see what kind of food we've got. No one will be hungry now, but I reckon we'll need something later."

She looked at him for a second, expressionless. He was about to ask what was wrong when she quickly closed the distance between them. It was all Harry could to not to let out a wheeze at the bone-crushing hug. _How does such a small girl get so strong?_ The thought was gone in an instant, though. He instead felt a great deal of relief.

It wasn't permanent, but for the moment they were safe.

He melted into the hug, grateful that they had made it out alive. It seemed like less than an hour ago that they were at Hogwarts, and everything was normal. _It _was _an hour ago that we were at Hogwarts, you fool._

With a quick kiss that Harry wished could last much longer, she quietly trod down the lamp lit hall. Looking around, he saw Seamus with his back against the wall, looking up at the high ceiling with a sigh of relief. Neville seemed to have flopped down onto the second step of the stairs, his head in his hands.

Turning back to the unlit dining room, he started at the calm stare of Luna, who was still standing behind him. Taking another deep breath, he gripped her shoulder briefly as he strode around her. Making his way to the opposite wall where an old sofa sat, he sprawled onto it. Sighing as some (but not all) of the tension faded from his body, he rubbed his eyes with his knuckles for a moment before he realized that Luna had followed him. She was settling herself on the floor with her back against the middle of the couch, barely visible in the darkness.

"Uh, Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing?"

He thought he saw her smile at him. "Why, that's not a rude question at all. I'm keeping you company."

He hesitated a moment, expecting a bit more, but none came. "Yeah, I see that, but why?"

"Ginny is helping downstairs and Ronald is helping Hermione. I couldn't let my friend go off by himself and get depressed. You do get rather cross when left to brood about things you don't like, did you know that?"

Harry let out a short, half-hearted laugh; something he didn't think would be possible given the circumstances. "No, I guess I never quite thought of it that way," he said. They were quiet for several minutes before something sprung to mind. "Luna, if the Death Eaters had shown while you and Hermione were setting up the extra wards outside, would you have taken her and Disapparated?"

As his eyes adjusted better to the dark, he thought he could see her staring at the crack in the moth-eaten drapes. She might have smiled at this question, too, but he couldn't be certain. "I really don't think I would have. I couldn't leave all of you like that, and I think Hermione would have been very upset with me if we had done as you asked. Besides, you wouldn't have left had you been in my place, would you?" The last was more of a statement than a question, one he had no argument for.

Hesitating for a second, Harry asked, "Luna, do you ever regret being close to me? I mean, you and everyone else are in harm's way because you're my friends."

He could see her dirty blonde hair move as she shook her head gently. "Oh, I would never regret that. You always treated me so nicely, except when you'd been brooding, but that's alright. I don't mind that so much."

Harry lay back down with a half-smile. "Thanks, Luna."

* * *

The light of dawn spilled through the cracks of the moth eaten curtains, and Harry found himself once again peering out at the empty street below. He had done this at least a dozen times over the last few hours, but he still felt a nervous flutter in his stomach from time to time.

Shaking his head, the dark haired young man turned away from the morning sun and swept his eyes across the second floor sitting room. Neville was asleep on the sofa with a thin blanket pulled over him. Dean Thomas and Seamus were on the floor, hidden by similarly tattered covers. Others had found places throughout the house to stretch out and find what rest they could. Harry knew that everyone was exhausted after the previous night's flight from Hogwarts, but at the same time he wondered how any of them could sleep at all.

Quietly stealing down the stairs and into the hall, he passed the covered portrait of Mrs. Black and turned down the stone steps to the kitchen. He could detect the scent of bacon and sausage leftover from when everyone had eaten earlier. It was surprising that the smell was still so strong, but soon he could hear sizzling and he realized someone was still cooking.

Rounding the corner, he was surprised to see Hermione standing next to the stove with her wand raised. No one else was there.

"You're already up?" She jerked at his voice, sending a sausage link flying. It stopped in mid-air as she quickly recovered.

"Harry," she breathed, leading the errant meat back into the skillet, "you startled me."

"Sorry," he mumbled as he moved to find something to drink. "So, did you get any sleep at all?"

Showing a weak smile, she shook her head, "Not really. An hour maybe. Most of it was pretending until Ron went to sleep in the other bed. We were in the room the two of you used when we used to stay here for the end of summer. I persuaded Justin to take the bed I was in before I came down." She paused for a second before turning the subject on him. "Did you get any sleep?"

He considered lying to her, but realized she probably already knew the answer to that question. "No," he admitted with a half-grin, as if it were nothing, "not a wink. I know your wards will hold, Hermione, but I keep expecting to turn around and find Bellatrix strolling in the front door."

"I know what you mean," she replied a bit unevenly. "I keep thinking I must have made a mistake somewhere."

Knowing where this was headed, Harry decided he didn't want his friend to start second guessing herself like this again. Taking a gulp of his butterbeer, he sat at the end of the table closest to the stove. "Hermione, I've got a question I've been thinking about all night. Is it possible to reset the Fidelius Charm on this house? You know, set a new secret keeper so Snape can't lead everyone here?"

Hermione looked back at him, her skillet tipping precariously as she did so. "I…I'm not really sure, Harry. The Fidelius is high level magic to begin with, I don't know if it can be undone like that."

"We've got to," he said, taking another drink, "else we'll have to find another hideout and cast a Fidelius Charm on it, and I sure can't think of any other place we can fit so many other people."

She turned back to the stove, and Harry could tell she was working it in her mind because she didn't correct the tilt of the frying pan. "Well, the only people I can think of that would know something like that would be Professor Flitwick and maybe Professor McGonagall. Professor Flitwick would probably be the one who could best set the charm up in any case…"

"We can't use Professor Flitwick," Harry said quickly, drawing a surprised look from Hermione. "With the Death Eaters in the school, there's no way we could get him out for long enough to do the charm without them knowing. They've probably already got an eye on him cause of his heritage; we can't do anything that would draw any more suspicion to him."

Frowning slightly, she turned back to the skillet again. She noticed its precarious tilt this time and leveled it out. "What if," she started slowly, "what if we could make it so they didn't know he was gone? The Order left some of their supplies here when they abandoned this house. If there was some Polyjuice Potion still here, I could transform into him and handle his classes while he's here!"

Harry almost choked on his butterbeer. "Absolutely not! No way, Hermione!"

"I can do every charm they teach through N.E.W.T. level," she said quickly, trampling his attempts to refuse the idea. "All I would have to do is act polite to everyone and take the potion every once in a while. Barty Crouch Jr. did it for a whole year, why couldn't I do it for a few days?"

"Because it's too risky, Hermione!" He didn't notice himself stand as he spoke. "The only reason we're safe right now is because we have you! Besides, if they did catch you, then they'd have 'Harry Potter's best friend.' What do you think they'll do to you?"

Hermione frowned at him for a moment before waving her wand at the skillet. "Well I don't know what else to do then. Even if we did find another place, I don't have any books that show how to cast a Fidelius Charm. I wouldn't know where to start." She summoned a plate with a flick of the wand, and pushed an egg, a few pieces of bacon, and the sausage onto it. Sliding it in front of him, she added quietly, "At least consider it."

He sat back down reluctantly, glancing questioningly at the plate. "Weren't you making this for yourself?"

She smiled as she levitated the pan back to the stove. "I'll fix more. Just make a decision soon, Harry. I don't know how long we can keep Grimmauld Place hidden."

* * *

AN: I don't know why, but I like the idea of there being an extended war with Voldemort. Something that lasts several years at least. There may be time lapses throughout the story of months or even a year, depending on what I decide to do with things.

Let me know what you think. I always try to be true to character and realistic in development. If something sounds completely out of whack, let me know. Just understand that things have happened a little differently over the last year and a half of Harry's life.

Thanks for reading. See you next chapter!

Gunso


	2. Protector

I forgot the standard disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, not I.

* * *

_Chapter Two_

_Protector_

Harry still couldn't believe he had agreed to this. It was against his better judgment, but as Hermione pointed out, there seemed to be no other way.

Harry checked the Marauder's Map again in the dim light of the corridor. Hermione's chin was on his shoulder as she peered down at it as well. Both breathed a bit faster than usual as they hid under the Invisibility Cloak. Tucked against the wall behind a statue of a dancing goblin, they saw a marker coming into the sixth floor corridor.

An irritated looking Argus Filch came around the corner, holding a lamp out in front of him with his left hand as he made his way toward them. Mrs. Norris silently padded along at his feet.

The concealed pair watched the caretaker warily as he shuffled past, mumbling something that they could not make out. Hermione let slip a tiny gasp, and Harry saw that they were being watched. The cat was looking right at them, only feet away.

Filch slowed to a stop as he looked over his shoulder. "What is it, my sweet?" A cruel grin grew on his face as he turned and, to Harry's extreme dismay, began to shuffle their direction. "Is that so? Amylus will be happy to have another student for detention."

Harry had often wondered if Filch could talk to his cat, and this seemed to confirm it in his mind. But this wasn't the time to be thinking about that. He slowly started to move away from the spot behind the statue, Hermione close by, only to find Mrs. Norris moving to block their path. He stifled the powerful urge to kick her to the opposite wall. _I will if Filch finds us!_

Filch was getting closer, and Harry had few acceptable ideas. The plan would be ruined if they had to curse Filch, but what else could they do? He refused to be caught here, even if it meant they would have to give up on Flitwick's help and abandon Grimmauld Place. It seemed Hermione agreed with him, as she already had her wand out. The only problem was that she wasn't aiming it at Filch. It was pointed well down the hall in the direction they had come from.

He didn't dare ask her what she was doing, as Filch was now only a few paces from them. His lantern was held out toward them he seemed to be searching with his squinting eyes. Harry could easily hear the faint wheezing which accompanied each of Filch's foul smelling breaths. Hermione moved, and he saw a swish and flick of her wand out of the corner of his eye.

_CRASH!_

Harry gave a small jump at the clattering sounds of metal as they slid across the stone floor. Filch seemed to be far more startled, jerking his head around toward the source of the offending noise. "Peeves!" The caretaker's face contorted with rage as he stumped down the corridor, apparently forgetting all else. As the old man moved away, Harry felt a nudge in his ribs.

"Let's go!" Her intense whisper drove him as they dodged around Filch's cat, who watched them go as if she had just had dessert taken away.

Racing away from the still clattering sounds echoing in the dark hallway, the pair turned up the next stairway and emerged onto the seventh floor. Proceeding at a trot toward the West Tower, they came to a stop, breathing hard, before a wooden door. It had a silver raven head with a ring in its beak and a remarkably low door handle.

Checking the map once more, Harry saw his and Hermione's names, and only one other nearby, on the other side of the door. Looking over his shoulder at his friend, she gave a nervous nod as he pocketed the map.

His disembodied hand appeared before them, grasping the ring and rapping it three times. After a moment it opened, revealing a diminutive old wizard in his dark blue nightclothes and a rather floppy hat to match. Filius Flitwick rubbed his eyes, then peered either direction in front of the entrance to his chambers, looking a bit confused.

"Professor," Hermione whispered, "we really need to talk with you."

He jumped at the voice, taking a moment to renew his searching of the seemingly vacant corridor. He leaned forward, looking just to Harry's left as he whispered, "Miss Granger? Is that you?"

"Yes, Professor," she answered, "can we come in? It's very important."

He nodded briefly as he mumbled, "Of course, Miss Granger, hurry." He stepped to the side and the pair moved inside. They turned to see that he was still peering into the corridor.

Harry called out to him quietly. "We're inside, Professor."

Flitwick started again at this new voice, looking around his room before closing the door with a bit of a flustered air about him. "How many of you are there, Mr. Potter?"

"There's just the two of us, Professor." Pulling off the cloak, Harry gave him a wry smile. "Sorry for calling like this, but we have something only you can help us with."

Flitwick held up his small hand. "Just a moment. Miss Granger, what was the first occasion that I awarded you points for Gryffindor?"

Hermione hesitated for a second, obviously not expecting to be quizzed. "It was in your class, our first year, for casting a levitation charm, I think." She seemed a bit unsure, being put on the spot like that, but Flitwick merely nodded.

"Mr. Potter," he said, turning to Harry, "please tell me on which occasion I took points from you."

Harry was confused for a moment. "Sir, I don't remember you ever taking points from Gryffindor because of something I've done."

Flitwick smiled. "Quite right, Mr. Potter. I had to be sure it was really you. With the new order being set and the Carrons wandering the halls, you simply can't be too careful."

He moved over to a rather small, comfortable looking armchair. He dropped into it heavily, letting out a long breath. Harry glanced around the room curiously. It was one of the few places in the castle he had never been.

There were a great deal of pictures on the walls, rather than the paintings one saw so many other places in Hogwarts. Most seemed rather old, as the witches and wizards moving within them were dressed a bit differently than Harry was used to. In almost every one Harry could immediately locate Flitwick, as he was usually the smallest one present. A number of books filled an old wooden shelf near the entrance, neatly arranged and dust free. A simple desk with quill and sheaves of parchment set off to the side, various items that seemed to have no use, and (to Harry's surprise) what appeared to be a Foe Glass leaning near another door.

"Just arrived a week ago," the Professor stated, noticing Harry's stare at the dark detector. "I ordered it after Albus…well, I thought if one Death Eater could infiltrate the school, why not another? Never could have guessed that they would be walking the halls with the blessings of a new Headmaster."

"New Headmaster?" Hermione seemed rather interested in this. Harry was a bit lost, as well. When he had left Hogwarts the night before, McGonagall was in charge.

"Merlin's Beard, you didn't know?" Flitwick sat up straight in his chair, a bit of a sneer on his lips. "The night you escaped, Severus Snape arrived with the other Death Eaters. It seems even the Ministry couldn't hold out against You-Know-Who's influence. He had a signed order from the new Minister saying that _he's_ now Headmaster. _Officially_ took over first thing this morning." Harry had never seen the Professor refer to anyone with such disdain, but he fully understood.

But if Snape was here, in charge of Hogwarts, then they might have even less time than Harry thought. With him around, Hermione's job would be that much more difficult.

"Professor Flitwick," he said, "we need to ask you something about the Fidelius Charm."

"Ah, a very powerful protective charm," he nodded, "and very complex. Takes almost a full day for a skilled wizard to cast it. I take it you've found a place that you want to fortify as a…well a hideout?"

"Sort of," Harry began, "there's just a small problem."

Hermione took over for him. "Professor, if a Fidelius Charm had already been cast on a place, and the secret keeper was…" She paused for a moment, unhappy at thinking of Dumbledore's death again so soon after it happened. "If the secret keeper died for some reason…"

Flitwick spoke up. "If something like that happened, then the role of secret keeper would be passed to everyone who had been told its location. Any of them would then be able to give the location away."

"Yeah, we know about that, Professor," Harry said. "The place we've found, Professor Dumbledore was the secret keeper."

Flitwick's eyes widened. "Oh my. Well, as I understand it, something like that is possible, but extraordinarily difficult. Nearly impossible, might be more accurate. I've never even witnessed it being done. Setting it, yes, but not removing." He got to his feet and moved over to his bookcase, seeming to search. "I have a book that explains the ways of the Fidelius, but I don't know how detailed the description of its removal is. Ah!"

Waving his wand, a book slid off the top shelf. Harry was wondering how Flitwick could have seen it when even Ron would have stretched to reach it. However he did it, the head of Ravenclaw was now back in his chair, flipping through the pages of the old, but well cared for, tome. He stopped and began to read intently. It wasn't long before he was shaking his gray-haired head slowly.

"No…no this won't do at all," he said, apparently, to himself. "No, this isn't enough to go on." Turning from page to page, he seemed more and more disheartened. A feeling Harry was having himself. If Flitwick couldn't do it, then they would have to find somewhere else. "It would be impossible without more clear…Merlin's Hat, this is it!"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in surprise, both moving to either side of the excited Flitwick and looking over his shoulder. Harry's eyes bulged as he saw the neat, slanted writing that filled the margins and blank spaces of the pages. "That's Dumbledore's writing!"

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione didn't take her eyes from the complicated flow of Dumbledore's words. Harry couldn't make heads or tails of it, but obviously Flitwick could.

"Yes, yes, Miss Granger," he piped happily, "this is definitely Albus' work!" He turned the page to find another spread of writing and hand-drawn diagrams, far more complicated that anything Harry had ever seen in his N.E.W.T. classes, and that was saying something. "I let him borrow the book a number of years ago. Said he needed to brush up on it for some reason. I just put it back on the shelf when he returned it; never gave it a second thought."

"Professor," Hermione spoke hopefully, "does this mean you could do it?"

Flitwick nodded absently, though he was still grinning broadly. "Oh, yes indeed! Albus always was rather good with absurdly complicated concepts. He's the only wizard I can think of that can explain something so cleanly."

"But what about if the secret keeper is gone, Professor?" Harry couldn't help crossing his fingers as he asked. "Does it explain that as well?"

The diminutive Professor stopped grinning, looking back at the previous pages before flipping back. Hermione gave him a worried look as Flitwick looked at Harry with an unreadable expression.

"That's exactly what the notes explain," he spoke, rather like he'd just read something very frightening.

"But that's good, Professor," Hermione grinned at him, but he shook his head.

"You don't understand, Miss Granger." It was certainly the first time Harry had heard a Professor say that. "You said that Albus was the secret keeper for this place you want to use?" They both nodded. "The notes only show how to remove the charm if the secret keeper _has died_. This would do nothing if that person still lived."

A chill ran through Harry. This didn't make sense. Why would Dumbledore have left instructions on how to lift a Fidelius Charm after the secret keeper died when he was the secret keeper himself? Did he know that such a thing would be needed? He had never given Harry reason to suspect he knew he was going to die, had he? Harry searched his memories franticly, but found nothing that could help him understand this.

"It's fine, Professor," Hermione seemed to recover first, though her voice was still shaky. "If Professor D-Dumbledore left it for us, then I think we should make the best use of it that we c-can."

"I need you to come with me, Professor Flitwick," Harry said, managing to keep the uneasiness out of his own voice.

"What? I can't leave!" Flitwick jumped out of his chair, looking at them incredulously. "I can't leave my students! Who might they replace me with? Another Death Eather? Dolores Umbridge?"

Harry's hackles rose at the last name, but he kept his voice even. "Professor, no one is going to replace you because no one will know you've gone." He looked over at Hermione, who took over.

"Professor, I'll stay here and take your place." She removed a rather significant jar of Polyjuice Potion (which she had found in the attic of Grimmauld Place) from bag she was carrying. "I've got about two weeks worth, so I'll be transformed into you until you get back. No one will suspect you've really gone!"

He was shaking his gray head, mumbling more refusals, when Harry spoke up again. "Professor, we need you. You can save a lot of people from the Death Eaters, including a number of Ravenclaws that came with us. We aren't going to be able to hide much longer, Professor."

"Please, Professor," Hermione implored.

Flitwick looked at the midnight blue carpet, heaving a deep sigh. "Very well, you two, very well. I'll go."

They spent the next half hour arranging things. Packing a bag for Flitwick, dropping the old Professor's hairs into the potion, reviewing Hermione on what she would need to know about the changes at the school.

Harry watched as Flitwick explained his normal routine to her. His stomach was tied in knots. It felt like he was throwing her to the wolves, especially with Snape wandering around. Again he found himself wondering if there was a better way to do this, but he could come up with no rational plan that would work as well.

"Alright then," Flitwick said, drawing Harry back, "you take good care of yourself, Miss Granger. I couldn't forgive myself if something were to happen to my best student."

She knelt down and hugged the grey haired wizard. "Thank you, Professor. I'll see you when you get back."

His face became rather flushed and he grinned a bit as he made his way toward Harry. "Well, Mr. Potter, let's be off."

Harry looked at Hermione again, then back at Flitwick. "Can you give me just a minute, Professor?" At the smaller man's smile Harry walked over to his friend. She was fidgeting a bit, and he could see a tiny glistening in her eyes.

"Scared?"

She forced a weak smile. "A little. I know it was my idea and all, but now that I'm here, it's all a little nerve wracking."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Galleon. "You still have yours?" She quickly pulled out her own twin of the gold coin, one of the ones she enchanted back in their fifth year for the DA. "If something happens, let us know."

Nodding, she reinforced her smile. "I'll be alright, Harry."

They looked at each other for a moment before Harry reached out and hugged her. "You be careful, Hermione. Ron's mad enough at me as it is."

She laughed a bit into his shoulder as she hugged him back. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I'll be back for you when Flitwick's finished the charm."

They stepped back from each other and Harry moved over toward the waiting Flitwick. "C'mon, Professor, you've got a house to protect." With a final look back at Hermione, who waved at him, he threw the Invisibility Cloak over himself and the small wizard and ventured back into the dark corridors of Hogwarts.

* * *

AN: Short chapter, I know. I had originally thought of Hermione performing the Fidelius, but I thought that might be a bit of a stretch, even for her. Besides, I think it's a little more interesting to have tension from her being alone and out of contact in a Hogwarts that's under Death Eater control. 

Some of you will have noticed by now that snippets of things from Deathly Hallows have made their way into the story. This story is more a divergence from cannon that a flat out alternate universe. Voldemort still took over the Ministry, but he waited for Dumbledore to fall before making his move. Hence why ol' Voldie is in power a little later than in the actual book.

I still haven't decided what changed exactly about the Horcrux investigation, but I do know that Dumbledore didn't have all the info he had in cannon, thus Harry knows even less about their identities. He will eventually search them out, but not until he can secure a base of operations.

Anyway, thanks to my first reviewer, gem x. Hope you continue to enjoy the story!

Thanks for reading, and we'll see you next chapter!

Gunso


	3. Doubt

I revised chapters one and two a bit with this release. The only plot element changed was that the Polyjuice Potion was left in Grimmauld Place when the Order abandoned it. The other changes were minor and don't really affect the plot much.

* * *

_Chapter Three_

_Doubt_

"So are you finally going to tell us what's going on around here?" Ernie Macmillian's loud voice had no problems filling the kitchen, where most everyone had gathered. A long welt still lingered across his forehead; a trophy of their last night at Hogwarts. "You've barely spoken to us since we came to this crumbling place. We deserve some answers!"

"Ernie's right," said Zacharias Smith as he stood next to his fellow Hufflepuff, "We've been here a day and a half now, with no explanation as to what we're supposed to do next. Are we supposed to just sit around and hope that you've got a plan?" Several assenting nods went through the group and a few voiced their agreement.

Lavender's irritated voice rose above the din. "Harry's gotten us this far! How long do you think we would have lasted if he hadn't brought us here?" A few other voices enthusiastically agreed.

"No one is saying that it was wrong to come to Grimmauld Place," Justin Finch-Fletchley spoke reasonably. "I think we can all admit that it was the right move at the time. After all, we're all still here, aren't we?" He gestured around the room to emphasize that they were, in fact, all still among the living. "But we've been holed up here for quite a while now–sitting on our hands–while Harry is off doing who knows what?"

"But he brought back Professor Flitwick!" Collin Creevy leaned his small frame forward so he could be seen by the others at the table. "I mean, he's a Professor! He'll be able to help us, right?" Collin's little brother, Dennis, nodded fervently beside him. Zacharias laughed.

"So Professor Flitwick is going to save us? He's gathered his Ravenclaws up there with him to help with whatever it is he's going to do! If students like us can help him, how powerful can it really be? Somehow I doubt something like that could protect us from You-Know-Who."

The room nearly erupted in arguing, growing to a crescendo in seconds flat. Harry sighed as he stood in the doorway, watching the heated exchange. It seemed the lines were drawn squarely between the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, as though they were still at Hogwarts competing over the House Cup. He had known something like this would happen, that the stress and anxiety would wear on everyone, but he hadn't expected it so soon, or over something so stupid.

"Enough," Harry spoke, his irritation spiking when no one heard him. Pointing his wand at his Adam's apple, he muttered, "_Sonorus._" "That's enough!"

His angry voice exploded through the whole house. Everyone had thrown their hands over their ears; even Harry winced as his ears rang. Quickly cancelling the spell, he opened his mouth to speak when he realized another voice was already audible.

"_Filth! Blood-traitors! Leave this honored house at once!"_

Harry's teeth clenched as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. "We'll get it, Harry." Dean waved his hand a bit as he and Seamus jogged past him and up the stone steps.

Everyone was looking at him, and few seemed pleased. Several were still rubbing their ears while they viewed him with nearly a glare. Even Gryffindors like Lavender were giving him reproachful looks. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he finally spoke.

"I know we haven't had a chance to sit down together and talk since we came here. All of us have been through a lot since Wednesday night, and with it coming so soon after – after Professor Dumbledore's funeral," he hesitated, trying to keep his voice straight, "well, it's not been easy." The mention of Dumbledore's death, only a month past, seemed to cast a chill over the room. Most shifted in their seats, fidgeting uncomfortably. A few rubbed at their eyes, too, but no one spoke. Mrs. Black's cries vanished from the background.

"I guess what I'm saying is that you all did a great job the other night," he spoke into the silence. "The odds were against us, but we all stuck together. We got out safe because we all looked out for one another. Our escape proved that we're stronger when we're united, far stronger than the Death Eaters gave us credit for. We can't loose that unity now."

Someone called out _"Here-here!"_ and several people thumped the heavy wooden table in approval. Harry couldn't help the tiny upward curl at the corner of his mouth.

Ernie stood up, waving his hand about. "I agree with Harry." _Could've fooled me,_ Harry thought. "If you'd asked me a week ago if we could've snuck nearly thirty people out of Hogwarts–with Death Eaters combing the halls for us, no less–I would've laughed at you! But we came through it all together!" He gestured grandly as he spoke. Harry heard a quiet snickering behind him as Seamus and Dean returned to their place along the wall. "It would be for the best if we all came together as one in this difficult time, trusting one another with our safety and well being. I think the first step in building that trust is for us all to know what the plan is for the DA. You agree, don't you, Harry?"

Blinking, Harry saw that all eyes were on him again. "Well, that's why I called you guys here," he said honestly. "I thought you guys deserved to know what's being done to keep us safe from the Death Eaters." He could have sworn everyone leaned in closer, so much that he almost wanted to take a step back.

"Well, you all know that Professor Flitwick is here," Harry began. "We brought him to—" he tried to think what would be the best way to describe it, "—to repair a charm that was keeping this house hidden for the last few years. If he can get it reset, then we'll be safe here. Permanently. We won't have to worry about being attacked by anyone as long as we're within the charm's radius."

"Oh, please," Zacharias scoffed, "you're telling me that Flitwick can conjure up some super-charm that not even You-Know-Who can break? I know he's a teacher, but don't you think you're overstating things a bit?"

"If Dumbledore chose him to be Charms instructor, then I'd say he's probably pretty damn good at Charms, wouldn't you?" Harry's voice became hotter with each word. Zacharias was ready to argue back, but Harry cut him off. "I suppose you've never heard of a Fidelius Charm, have you? As long as the secret keeper doesn't tell the location of this house, then no one can find it; not the Death Eaters, not the Ministry, and not even Voldemort." The yelps and hissing at their enemy's name irked Harry even more. "If anyone still thinks it's such a stupid plan, then why don't you go tell Hermione? She's risking her life so we have a chance to make this place safe!"

Harry only vaguely realized his fist hurt. He hadn't realized he had stepped forward and pounded the table as he was yelling. No one was leaning forward in their seats anymore; no one was looking at him, either. Zacharias seemed rather abashed, and was staring at his fingers as they tapped lightly on the table.

No one else seemed any more ready to speak than Zacharias. There was an uncomfortable silence that covered them like a heavy blanket. Harry knew he shouldn't have blown up at them like that, but he felt no remorse over it.

"What are you yelling about?"

Everybody turned to see Ginny come in. She had been with Ron most of the morning, trying to coax him into speaking to Harry. Ron had taken to ignoring him since he had left Hermione at Hogwarts the previous evening, as if Harry didn't feel badly enough about doing it already.

"It's nothing," Harry answered her shortly. "I think I've covered the plan so far," he said, turning back to the table. "All we're focusing on right now is making this place safe. Nothing else matters until that's done. Any questions?"

None came, and he quickly turned on his heel. He met Ginny's eyes as he left but didn't slow down. By the time he turned up the stairs to the second floor, he realized she was following him. He gave no sign he noticed her, however, and marched forth until he came to Sirius' old room. Leaving the door open for her, he began pacing animatedly around the room he had claimed for his own.

The door closed quietly and Ginny was soon sitting cross legged on the end of the bed. She said nothing, but only stared at him impassively as he flitted about the room. Pulling out the enchanted Galleon from his pocket, Harry stared at it for several seconds before stuffing it back in its place. When he was certain he had situated it near his skin, he resumed his pacing.

"You think I'm worrying too much, don't you?" He had finally had enough silence.

"I didn't say that."

"No, but you're thinking it," he answered. "I can see it in your eyes."

She smiled a bit, continuing to watch him. "You're right, you _are_ worrying too much. But don't feel too bad, Ron's doing it worse than you are."

"Doing what?"

She shrugged, pushing some of her back behind her ear. "Pacing, beating on tables, yelling. I told him that he looked rather childish when he started taking out his anger on others."

Harry said nothing for a minute, recognizing the thinly veiled reprimand. He continued his pacing until his irritation had subsided again before he looked over at her. "So I reckon it's going to be a while before Ron comes out of his room?"

"He'll come out when he's hungry," she smiled again. "But I imagine when he does come out, he'll be just as irritable as you are."

"I'm not irritable," he snapped at her. She didn't cringe or yell at him; she just arched an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly. "Alright, you win," he relented, "I'm irritable. I'm wound up like a spring!" He dropped heavily onto the bed next to her. "I'm just worried about Hermione. I mean, did I do the right thing? I left her there with Snape in charge of the castle and Death Eaters combing the place!"

"I know, Harry," she spoke soothingly, "I'm worried about her, too, but she'll be alright." She began smoothing his hair. It was an impossible task, but it was one of her ways of relaxing him.

It was working rather well, too. Leaning his shoulder against hers, Harry realized just how tired he was. He had been so nervous about the mission that he hadn't slept since the previous morning. It was quite possible that the last time he had a proper rest was at Hogwarts, before the Ministry fell into enemy hands.

Harry became aware that he was lying down, and he saw Ginny smiling warmly down at him. "Get some sleep, Harry."

He reached out, grasping her hand as he yawned. "Go see if Professor Flitwick is going to need anything. If we need to get supplies, we should plan out how we're going to get into Diagon Alley without…"

"Alright, Harry," she answered, placing a finger over his lips. "I'll make sure nothing important happens until you're awake." She leaned forward and kissed him, drawing it out for several seconds before she pulled away, caressing his cheek. Crossing the room, she paused at the door. "Sweet dreams."

He licked his lips after she had gone, savoring the moment they had just shared together. It seemed as if it had been a lifetime since they had last been together in private. He began to think back to some of his happier memories with Ginny. Before he knew it, though, he was sound asleep.

* * *

Harry felt the constricting feeling of Apparation ease as the darkness faded into a slightly brighter gloom. Looking about, he saw the familiar signs and storefronts of Diagon Alley. It was twilight, and there was no one on the street that Harry could see. All the same, he made sure the Invisibility Cloak was covering him completely before he moved on. 

It was a short walk to his destination, a rather elaborately decorated shop just down the cobbled road. Light spilled through the windows of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, though the front door was locked. Harry took another look around to confirm he was alone before knocking. He heard a muffled voice call from inside. "Sorry, but we're closed for the night. We open bright and early at eight in the morning!"

Harry knocked again, drawing a more irritated answer. "I said we're closed! Come back tomorrow!" Sighing, the young man knocked a third time. Listening closely, he heard footfalls drawing close over a grumbling voice. "Oi! Have you been overdoing the Confunding Cakes? I said we're…"

Fred pulled the door open, trailing off when he saw no one on the step. "It's me," Harry whispered.

The tall wizard seemed not to notice, however, as he stepped out into the street. Harry darted through the open door as Fred looked up and down the lane. George's voice came from the back room as his twin moved back in. "Who is it?"

"Wasn't anybody there," Fred called back loudly as he was closing the door. "Guess _I'm_ the one who's been abusing the Confunding Cakes!" He laughed as he closed and locked the door. "Back room, Harry," he said suddenly.

Harry obeyed, making his way through the isles of joke boxes, fake wands, and charmed quills. It was surprising just how much room there was in the shop. It had always been stuffed full of people the few times he had been there.

Coming into the next room, he saw George counting money at a lavish desk. There were stacks of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts nearly a foot high.

"Hey, George, guess who it is?"

"A handsome and debonair young wizard who just happens to look like me?"

"Close, George," Harry chuckled a bit as he revealed himself. "Close."

The twins rushed over to pat him on the back and muss his hair. "Well, George, he _is _handsome, there's no denying that."

"_And_ he's debonair; I was right about that, too!"

"But we mustn't forget his most winning attribute," Fred wore a particularly amused smile to match the one George was showing. Harry had learned to be wary when he saw that look.

"What attribute is that?"

The twins answered as one. "You're a _fugitive!_"

Harry spent the next several minutes trying to keep up with Fred and George's merriment. A stranger would have seen it as mindless frivolity, but Harry knew them better than that. He suspected they were simply showing their joy that Harry was still alive and out of the hands of the enemy.

"So, Harry," George said as he passed a butterbeer to his guest, "how's everyone doing?"

Fred summoned two large, squishy chairs for himself and Harry. "Yeah, Mum's been going crazy since we heard about your escape. Wish I could've been there to see it."

Harry settled into the chair, which was extraordinarily comfy. The only problem was he felt as if he were slowly sinking farther and farther into it. "Yeah, we're all fine."

"Where's Ronniekins?"

His mood darkened, though he tried not to show it. "Not talking to me. Thinks I'm an idiot for letting Hermione go back to Hogwarts." He paused for a moment. "Problem is, I agree with him. I keep wondering if it was the right thing, if I should've stopped her."

Fred leaned forward in his chair with some difficulty. "What'd Hermione want to go back to Hogwarts for?"

"She forget her favorite book?" George sat on the edge of the desk as he joked, but it seemed only half-hearted.

Harry didn't laugh. "She's there to get us some help securing Grimmauld Place."

The two Weasley's glanced at each other. "Snape knows about Sirius' house, though."

"I know," Harry said. "Hermione went to take Professor Flitwick's place while he tries to reset the Fidelius Charm. That's why I'm here, actually."

George beamed. "Ol' Flitwick's there, is he? Give him a hug for me when you get back!"

Smiling in spite of himself, Harry continued. "Anyway, there are a few things he needs to finish the work." He pulled a bit of parchment out of his pocket and handed it to Fred. "None of us can be seen in Diagon Alley, or anywhere else, really. Fugitives would have a hard time buying Siglejack oil or _The Codex of Advanced Home Defense Charms._"

"You'd be surprised," George told him, "not many people here in Diagon Alley would turn you guys in. I heard old Kanderkrak, the bloke down at Magical Menagerie, saying that he'd be happy to sell you a blast-ended skrewt if you ever wanted one."

Harry wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing, but didn't have long to think it over. Fred had finished reading the list and was handing it to George. "Some of the things you need are in back. We keep a stock of common ingredients for experimentation purposes. You can take that with you."

"Some of this other stuff, though," George said a little slowly as he was reading, "will be a little harder. Might have to nip down to Knockturn for this one."

"I don't know when I'll be able to pay you back for any of this," Harry told them, reaching into his pockets, "I've only got a few Galleons. I would think that Gringotts is being watched, so I can't get you any more right now." They were already waving their hands before he finished his sentence.

"No need for that, Harry," George said.

"Don't worry about this one," Fred added. "Remember, you don't pay in our shop."

George nodded. "And you're sitting in our shop, so you don't pay."

Harry protested, shaking his head. "You two giving me some of your joke stuff is one thing, but I don't want you to have to pay for everything I need to buy."

"We just think of this as our contribution to the Order," Fred stated dramatically, posing with his arm stretched out to the ceiling.

"Or rather," George amended with a grin, "our contribution to Dumbledore's Army."

Harry tried to argue further, but the twins mostly ignored him. They occasionally poked fun at his stubbornness and wondered aloud if it would help if they wrote him a letter. He finally relented as they gathered what materials they had, packing them into a miniature chest that was far too small to have held it all.

"Almost forgot about your new 'sampler pack'," George grinned. "Thought you might be able to use a fresh supply of our wares!"

Fred pulled out a rather large red bag that reminded Harry of something Santa Claus might carry. "We're sending a lot this time just in case we don't get to see you for a while. You are a fugitive from the Ministry after all." He handed the bag to Harry. It wasn't as heavy as he had thought, but it was certainly bulky.

"We've special made something for you, too," George sat the small chest atop the over stuffed sack. "Powdered versions of our Skiving Snackboxes."

"They're concentrated forms of all the different snacks," Fred explained proudly. "Just add them to your favorite…"

"…or your enemy's favorite…"

"…food or drink. As soon as they take one swallow, it'll take effect just like they had eaten the real thing."

"Uh, thanks," Harry managed around his rather ungainly load. "I'm sure we'll find something to use this stuff on. I'll change the protections on the hideout so you two can get in. We need the rest of that stuff as soon as you can get it."

"Don't worry, Harry," Fred gave him a surprisingly reassuring smile. "We'll have everything you need by noon tomorrow."

"Thanks, you two." He tried to give them each a nod around the red sack. "You don't know how much this helps us."

They both flashed winning smiles at him. "Just don't get caught before Flitwick finishes," Fred told him.

George followed, nodding sagely. "For that matter, don't get caught afterward, either."

"Tell Ginny to keep her nose clean, but not _too_ clean."

"And tell Ickle Ronniekins that if he doesn't shape up by the time we get there, well…" he looked thoughtful for a minute, "well, we can leave that to his imagination."

Harry smiled again as he readied himself. "Take care, you guys."

"You, too," they said together. "See you tomorrow!"

Grasping the sack tight, and keeping one hand awkwardly on the small chest, Harry turned in place. His vision went dark and he felt that unpleasant compression, but he kept his mind focused on the front step of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

* * *

AN: I am sad. Apparently my first chapter isn't being widely enjoyed. Out of all the hits on the first chapter since my last update, only one in four has gone on to chapter 2. What did I do wrong? I didn't think it was that bad… 

I'm sure some of you who have made it this far are wondering why I set this in the 'action' category if there's been no real action so far (the thing with Filch hardly counts). Next chapter, perhaps the chapter after that, will be a fairly significant action sequence, so please bear with me.

I'm still kind of trying to get my footing on this story. I'm also trying to decide how badly I want to continue it. I know a lot of people won't read anything less than 10k words, so I'm planning on one more chapter for now. If there's still no one reading, then I'm probably going to cancel this story and try something else. So please review and let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading!

Gunso


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